


No More.

by MuseMusing



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: AU - Dark Aspects, Alternate Universe - Dark, Blood, Dark Annabeth, Dark Frank, Dark Hazel, Dark Jason, Dark Leo, Dark Nico, Dark Percy, Dark Reyna, Dark Thalia, Depravity, Devoid of emotions, Electricity, Fire, Gore, Hurricanes, Intelligence - Freeform, Loss of Limbs, Madness, Murderers, Shadows - Freeform, Skeletons, Switch Off On Perspectives, Waiting for more allies, War, Water, Zombies, a bit of insanity, dark piper, deprivation, metal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-14 03:28:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7151213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuseMusing/pseuds/MuseMusing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a few short pages on each of the seven, with Nico and Reyna, and what it would be like for them to turn dark. I have no idea how many other people have played around with this idea, as I am sure someone has, I have seen a few headcanons, after all. But out of all of them, I hope you find mine just as favorable. Review and enjoy!<br/>They will be labeled in numbers, from the order in which they were introduced to the series. Example: Percy is One. Annabeth would be Two, and so on.<br/>The characters and plots from the books are NOT mine, and credit for such goes to Rick Riordan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One and Three. (Percy and Nico.)

* * *

Percy Jackson didn’t know exactly when he’d started to change. It had been gradual at first, hadn’t it? Then again, maybe it wasn’t. He stopped paying attention because right now it didn’t get him anywhere. Not anymore.

    He was pulled back into his past, remembering things he didn’t want to have replaying in front of his eyes. First, he thought about the titan and giant wars. He thought that maybe, just maybe, his dreams had started to increase after the Battle of The Labyrinth, getting worse. He had seen countless campers die, some young, and some who just started to live, despite everything they’d been put through. He’d wake up at night in a cold sweat, shaking, and thinking his time was up. It was those times, still at camp, when he’d go to Annabeth’s cabin. He’d wake her up, tell her what had happened, and he’d let her hold him and soothe him back in his own cabin. The nights where he didn’t have Annabeth, he’d had his mother. She didn’t fully understand all of what he went through, but she’d seen some of the monsters that wanted him dead. She’d soothed him to the best of her ability, knowing she would be able to help her baby boy. Paul didn’t know what to do on those nights.

    What do you do to soothe a boy who’d gone through hell where monsters existed, but you couldn’t see them?

    For someone not a part of a world he belonged in, there was nothing he could have done. His mother, at least, had known some of it.

    It had been months now since the giant war had ended and Gaea was no longer a problem. Percy had steadily become a different person after Tartarus. He didn’t think he’d become a different person. But now he would always be the person who had been set free after all those horrible nights, having panic attacks at the fear of looming death. He’d seen Death. Both the embodiment and watching as the people he cared for, protected, withered away or met grisly fates.

    He was tired of being used as the gods’ pawns. Their playthings. Their sources of entertainment when they got bored or just needed a good show. His PTSD had gotten worse and worse and all the while his mental health had begun to deteriorate. He never told anyone. How do you tell someone you think you’re losing the person who you used to be?

    He accepted the darker, colder side of him. This side of him wanted to shine. To grow. To guide him.

    He let it consume him. Bit by bit.

    He wondered if the bits of Kronos that were still floating around knew how he had turned out. Knew what he turned in to. Probably. After all, he’d guided Luke to become who he had been. Perhaps he was laughing at the way he had turned out in the end. He might even be prideful as he laughed silently, the chill of Kronos’ presence sweeping over him from time to time.

    Percy wondered how much shit his father was getting, after having vouched for him all those years ago. It didn’t really matter anymore.

    The more Percy escalated, the worse it got. There was no stopping him. Not anymore.

    Perfectly recalling when it started, he remembered. It had been a couple months after Tartarus. He dreamt that he was back in actual hell. He recounted all the monsters he cornered and he tortured for information. The monsters he’d gained the trust of, saying he was going to be on their side when he was free, and killing them the second he didn’t need them anymore. He was always met with faces of fear, of shock, of disbelief. The way he’d even turned on Bob in the end, when all he’d done was help him.

    In his remorse, he’d told the sun and the stars, “Bob says hello,” and he wept for the loss of the person he used to be. He could have sworn the constellation of the huntress looked to him in disapproval while she ran across the sky at night when he'd said it. 

    That was the last time he’d felt remorse.

    It was then, when he had woken up from that dream, that the delicate sphere of glass in him had fractured again. There was no smoothing out the cracks again and feeling like he would be whole. 

    “Why do we put up with this anymore?” Percy had said to Annabeth the day after. “Is there really a reason?”

    Stormy grey eyes met bright green, hers wide and full of fear. “We weren’t meant to do this, Percy. We shouldn’t do anything morally wrong. The gods have changed since all those years ago.” Her voice was soft, hoarse.

    He could see it in her eyes that she was afraid he would turn out like Luke. He didn’t know it then, but he would turn out that way.

    It was after that that everyone had begun to grow fearful of him. When he would spar with campers and he would be so brutal he left them in the infirmary for days later to come.

    She had almost asked him what had happened to him. But she didn’t. What would she know? She didn’t go through Tartarus with him. He’d managed to cut the line before she went over the edge and he threw her across the ground, away from the pit. It was one of superhuman acts when one throws someone else by a burst of energy.

    He’d almost followed before the section of ground he was standing on cracked and crumbled, and by himself, he fell to the depths of Tartarus.

    He remembered the promise he had made before he threw her, telling her he would never be from her again and how quickly that had been ripped from him. But she could sympathize with everything else he felt, and then it had been good enough to work.

    Campers started to get darker and darker now. The fear of constant monster attacks or wars looming over their heads like a tangible thing. The terror that they would rest and they would never wake up, instead they would suddenly find themselves being judged. Or the blind terror they would feel if they woke in the midst of finding themselves being the snack of some horrid monster.

    Shortly after his conversation with Annabeth, he left camp for good. He started to reside in the house of a couple he’d murdered without remorse or thought. They’d done nothing wrong.

    He was pulled out of his thoughts by an agonized scream and his hair blowing off to the side, dark shadows writhing around him.

    On the ground in front of him was a lean, athletic man, spread eagled there in front of the crouching demigod.

    “Please! Have mercy!” The voice begged for the millionth time since Percy had started his ministrations.

    “Stop?” The voice that came from Percy’s throat was cold, devoid of emotion and nothing like he sounded before. “What for? There’s no reason to anymore. There is no mercy.”

    There was another demigod standing behind him and slightly to the left, watching with rapt attention and delighting in the wavering life in front of him.

    The man on the ground was covered in bruises from head to toe, not a free space of flesh unmarred first by Percy’s fists, then his sword, and now he was being tormented by his birthright. Blood soaking out of this man’s side from a sword wound; cuts open wide enough to see a clear layer of muscle; bruises black and blue and in varying shapes. Clothes torn and ragged, hanging loose on the man who, too, was becoming a shell of who he used to be.

    There was a tugging sensation in Percy’s gut, one he was so accustomed to by now. Back in the years and the months, he needed to concentrate. He didn’t need to do that now. He merely pointed one tanned finger at the man’s left shoulder and his skin rippled and began to expand. The flesh at his entire arm beginning to expand before it exploded. Blood sprayed, muscle bits flew everywhere, and parts of his fingers landed near the crouching demigod, who seemed unamused.

    The man screamed and screamed, but no one came to his aid. One look from either of the two demigods, and people went scurrying in the other direction, lest they bring about their wrath.

    Percy glanced back at the demigod who was just literally glowing in a dark, iridescent sphere of energy; siphoning this guy’s life force as he wilted away under the relentless torment he was being put through. His black hair was longer, dusting the tops of his shoulder, but today it was pulled back up into a ponytail. Those dark brown eyes held tinges of red and if you stared into those depths too long, you would see the images of the dead he had seen, the people who met their ends by his hands and his powers. The pale skin sticking out in contrast to his dark clothing.

    Percy started out by taking on assassination jobs. He met with people outside of courthouses who lost their cases and the murderers of family members or friends had gotten off. Where their rapists had found justice and not them. Child abusers taunted their victims once more.

    It was Percy who had gotten ahold of them when they thought they got away scott free. He didn’t charge anything for his services. All he wanted then was for them to pay.

    And now? He still took those jobs. But now he had also slain dozens upon dozens of innocent lives.

    Being bored and annoyed with the screaming, Percy turned to look at the man’s chest.

    The man watched the cold, calculating look the teens were giving him and he could feel his heart beating more and more.

    Percy then looked at the man’s arm; it was empty of space except for a skeletal arm and hand. Flicking his fingers at the man, the two deranged teens watched as his skin swelled and engorged. In less than ten seconds, the screaming rose, the pitch higher and pathetic, the keen of a dying animal, and then suddenly . . . There was silence. The man’s torso exploded, as if explosives had been implanted within him in various spots. There was nothing but a skeleton amidst a large puddle of blood. Limbs strewn around the concrete; organs in pieces. Brain matter was nothing but a pile of goop; Percy having heated the water percentage in his brain until it literally melted.

    Percy stood beside his companion now, hair plastered to his face by the blood. He plucked a piece of the man’s intestine from his hair and flung it aside. The skeleton glowed a deep, sickly purple colour before it rose from the ground, chattering angrily, and it was nothing but a slave to the murderer’s companion now.

    Walking down the street, leaving the scene of the crime, the only thing that left Percy’s throat now was dark, cold, maniacal laughter. If anyone was even remotely close to the sound, all it did was send shivers up their spines. It would speak to instincts long forgotten, the ones that told them to _run._  Run as far and as fast as your legs can carry you.

 

**      **     ** 

 

He remembered how everything had went. Unlike Percy, he remembered when it started and how it made him feel. It started when he realized that, despite being from a different time period, there was many people out there who wouldn’t accept him for who he was. There would also be people who looked down on him. As if they were better than him.

    In a lot of ways, they were.

    Nico had went to find Percy and he’d told him, “I want to join you.”

    “Why do you? Everyone else is scared of what I’ve become. Why aren’t you?”

    “We aren’t so much different, you know. I’m tired of being entertainment for the gods. I want out. I want control of my own life without their meddling. I’ve already actually killed someone.”

    Percy’s lips had turned upwards. “Have you now? Did you like it? It feels good, too, doesn’t it?”

    Nico nodded and that was how they started their alliance again. Percy was different than the last time he’d been seen. His hair had been shaved into an undercut and he wore an ace bandage around his arm, over the mark of the legion. His camp necklace was nowhere to be seen on him, and was rather stashed away in the nightstand beside his bed, as he’d shown Nico.

    Percy’s eyes showed storms that ravaged the land and made the seas unsafe to travel unless he decided no one would die, feeling almost generous.

    He wasn’t sure how he should go about doing what Percy had done. But, then again, it was something he had needed to do on his own.

    Percy had gone through Tartarus alone, just like he had. They didn’t talk to each other on what had happened, the different things the other had done. Nico lived with Percy in the house he had claimed, the bloodstains still in the carpet and on the walls.

    Nico had gotten his first taste then. He felt the lingering souls, the lingering energy that was residing in the house. He decided maybe he should concentrate on it. The energy had been a pale blue and it had swirled before flowing into him. It stirred something in Nico and he let it. He let the madness begin to consume him, too, and once he had a taste of it, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go back to what he was. He’d gotten stronger. Steadily. Slowly. Gradually.

    The lingering traces of fear, helplessness, anger, failure. It could all be felt in the traces of energy. But the emotion that stood out the most had been the outright terror. So sharp it could almost be tasted, as tangible as it was.

    Power. Nico had never felt so much power before in his life.

    Without realizing it, he had done what Percy did at first. He went to the courthouse and he waited for someone to have the justice system fail them.

    The second victim, after Bryce Lawrence, had been a female who kidnapped a young couple’s infant son and then killed him shortly after taking him. All circumstantial evidence damned or tainted and the killer had walked.

    Nico stepped from the shadows that night after obtaining her address. Her bedroom was dark as she slept and it was the perfect setting for someone with Nico’s powers. They hadn’t grown anymore, not yet, so he went with what he had as he stalked over to her sleeping form.

    He could feel the infant’s leftover energy, which he promptly absorbed. Terror and abandonment. Longing for his parents. Nico didn’t even wait or plan, just conjured up that overwhelming flood of anger and pain he’d used on Bryce. The temperature in the bedroom dropped considerably, frost covering windows, the woman’s lips turning blue.

    He used his powers to turn this into nothing but a husk, a zombified version of the woman she used to be. The ground split open beneath her bed and her zombified corpse and her bed fell down to Hades, the ground mending itself. No trace of what had occurred except for the large crack in the ground that no one would know where it led to. Nico disappeared back through the shadows.

    Overtime, his powers grew and grew. He began to lose himself to the madness that was always in his father’s eyes.

    The shadows grew longer and darker wherever he went, reaching out to the physical body that controlled them with emotions no longer hidden. Emotions that slowly began to wane and disappear, much like his companion’s.

    Powers that allowed him to visit dreams of people and find out their darkest secrets and use it against them. Shadows swirling in a sphere of dread, making them imagine their biggest fears coming to life. Air temperatures that dropped suddenly when it was his will, freezing people with the slightest of touches if that’s what he wanted; or with something as small as a thought.

    Weapons fashioned out of shadows, solidifying to deal serious injury and damage. Wherever there was a dead body, Nico didn’t even have to concentrate anymore. They animated themselves and came to find him because Nico’s power grew and latched onto them. Calling them to their rightful master, used for dark and malevolent reasons.

    The dark spirits that people often have in their homes would find their way to him; no more hauntings unless he made it so. All the malevolent spirits sought him out, sensing the same depravity and deprivation in him.

    Nico soon left the home Percy had claimed as his own and went to find one for himself. Somewhere in the side of a cliff where he would don a crown made of bones as he lazed on a throne, also made from bones much like his father sat upon. Dark spikes risen up from the ground, emanating energy so dark it sent a cold feeling up anyone’s spine. All except for Percy and the others that would soon join them in their varying states of madness.

    Nico was the rightful Ghost King and no one would challenge him for his title again. No one would try to steal it from him. People would soon start referring to him as the Ghost King or the Silent One. His kills were usually silent, him being gone before anyone noticed something had went amiss.

    Nico di Angelo was the first who joined Percy on his bittersweet path paved with gore and bone.

    He would not be the last.  


	2. Four and Six (Jason and Piper).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been inspired to write, and I figured I would post this.

* * *

 

“They need to be taken of.” Reyna’s voice rang out with ease even as she looked disturbed. 

    Jason stood there in front of her, frowning. “Taken care of?”

    “They’re a threat to everyone. Frank is busy, and someone needs to stay behind. Jason, I trust you with this task. You’re on par with both of them if you can fight one of them first; I’ve heard they live in different places. Piper could also help with her powers.”

    Jason Grace was tasked with killing two of his friends.

    It was that conversation that made him go seek out Percy, Piper at his side with her arm wound around his own. The closer Jason got to the house where Percy was staying in, the more his instincts were telling him to _run_ . To take his girlfriend and _just run_. _Hide_. Danger lives here and you’ll sooner die than leave in one piece.

    Percy’s powers had gotten stronger and they emitted around the house in waves. But he was too powerful to where only the strongest, and possibly stupidest, monsters dared to try anything. At this point, they saw Percy as a monster himself. Overtime, they would no longer see him as an enemy, but as an ally.

    They stopped thinking that the moment Percy descended upon them and tore them apart with no celestial blade. The blade Percy now carried was a regular weapon with the ability to harm mortals and only wound monsters without killing them.

    These two companions saw him sitting in the lawn, legs crossed as he looked to the sky with a manic look in his eyes. There was a psychopathic tinge to the smile he wore. The sky above them was darkening, clouds full of rain ready to be let loose.

    He stood to meet them, waves rolling in his eyes. “What brings you two here? Are we having a reunion?”

    “Not quite. We’re here to . . . deal with you.” Jason paused before stating, almost hesitantly.

    “Deal with me?” That psychopathic smile got wider before he laughed, throwing his head back. “You don’t see it yet, but you will. You’ll see why everything will turn out this way.”

    After Jason had his ass handed to him, he did see. Jason had just managed to keep Piper alive because Percy knew her weaknesses and her strengths. He was much stronger than the two of them now. Not even if they gathered the rest of them would it be enough to take Percy down.

    He had thrown away his humanity. His conscience. Perhaps on some level, he still cared enough for them, because he didn’t kill them. He injured them enough to where they would be out of commission until they got ambrosia and nectar.

    That encounter was enough to have him thinking. Why did they keep doing this? There were plenty of adults in New Rome who had more experience. Who knew how to do things better than they did. Jason wasn’t even eighteen yet. He wasn’t old enough to classify as an adult in the world they lived in.

    Lupa raised him from the age of two up until he went to live in Camp Jupiter. If he wasn’t careful, he would’ve no longer had been her pup, but her dinner. He was raised to be strong, to be obedient, to put honour before all else. Lupa was raising children to be soldiers. To force them to deal with things that no child should ever have to be put through.

    Sure, the monsters were bad enough to deal with. But when their comrades fell, they were expected to move on quick. After all, shit like this happened all the time when you were dealing with monsters. People died protecting their friends, their home. You were expected to take it all in stride, even if the people you cared for were the ones to perish. The dead were buried, shrouds burned, they were mourned in one’s own time and then everyone was expected to move on.

    What kind of a life were they supposed to be living at this point? The gods at least saw their children, made some visits, signs, at Camp Half-Blood. But they were just presences in Camp Jupiter. Reyna had been blessed by two goddesses and yet that had been it.

    Jason wanted to see what it was that had driven Percy to do as he was doing, and he was starting to understand why and what had started it. They were all pawns. They were entertainment. How much had the gods made their lives difficult? How many times they had meddled in their personal lives.

    He went in search of someone. The person who had had a second hand in raising him to be who he was. He went after Lupa; she’d been in the middle of training another demigod. Unknown in face and name. Just a soon-to-be addition to the army of children. Jason let him go as he stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. He didn’t want to be a part of this world. Had never asked for it.

    It took a while, blasting Lupa over and over again with everything he had and still she got back up. She came after him with teeth and claws to render his flesh to food for her pack. Her fur matted with blood, body twisted in agony.

    Then Jason concentrated on the air around her, keeping her from pulling it into her lungs. Taking it away from her and it took a bit more concentration than he thought. She’d fallen to the ground, a husk, eyes glassy and lifeless. No more children would be taken in by her and turned into killing machines.

    It was Jason who turned her home into his own. He took in demigods and he didn’t train them. He protected them. He only trained them if they wanted it. If they were old enough to where it would be okay. As okay as it could get. They were told monsters weren’t the real enemies. They weren’t people with souls, but it was still murder and if they could handle that, then perhaps they were made for this life. Many of them didn’t like it. Many of them wanted simple training, enough to survive and that was okay. Jason wasn’t keeping them around if they wanted to leave.

    He’d done his job with them at this point.

    As days and weeks went by, Percy came to visit one day. He’d brought someone that had gotten away from the justice system. It was someone that had abused one of the demigods that Jason had taken on as one of his charges.

    He didn’t get away alive. Jason electrocuted him time and time again. Taking away the air he could breathe, allowing him to suffocate, before he gave it back only to do it all over again. The man begged for death, for mercy. Jason had said something like Percy had.

    “Mercy? There is none for you.” The man died alone, terrified and in pain. Not knowing whether he would truly live throughout the ordeal he’d been put through.

    Unlike Nico and Percy, Jason kept some hold on his humanity. He had to in order to help all these demigods and stop them from growing up resenting what they were born into. What they were expected to do.

    As a child of the Big Three, there’d been a lot of pressure on Jason’s shoulders. On Percy’s. On Nico’s. They were expected to be bigger, better, than everyone else. They were expected to be leaders. To hold the world on their shoulders. This was the only thing Nico didn’t do. Instead he shouldered his own emotions until they grew to the point he was the second to turn without hesitation.

    And now Jason had joined their ranks.

    The more he went after people, good or bad, innocent or guilty, his powers grew like theirs. He barely even needed to concentrate anymore. He emanated wave after wave of energy and power that scared even some of his charges. Others reveled in it and the power their superior wielded.

    When their moods were sour, Percy and Jason ravaged the land with hurricanes and lightning netted across the sky, striking people as it rained down if they were out. All the while, Jason and Percy would stand on a tall building and watch it. Wind ripped around, sky and sea no longer warring against each other, and now worked together to create as much devastation as possible.

    People drowned, were electrocuted, were flown into buildings and billboards. The sea was no longer safe to travel by, nor the sky. The waves were horrible and unmerciful, just as Percy had become. Winds too perilous and storms just so as Jason commanded. If by some miracle they were in a good mood, then and only then, was it safe to travel by airplane or boat. Not even pegasi dared to take to the sky anymore.

    Tempest came back for Jason and Tempest was more than happy to stay at his side.

    Jason made his own home in a temple up high on a mountain, where Atlas held the sky in the distance where Jason had defeated two titans. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed nonstop in his own home, hordes of demigods in various places and all treating him like he was a god. Their god.

    Piper came to visit him one day, soaked from rain. She was dressed in strips of clothing and her eyes no longer held any love in their depths. They glowed with hate and on her head was a crown woven out of black, white, and blue feathers.

 

 

**   **   **

  


There was a change on the horizon and that was the reason she’d mixed the different coloured feathers. Together, they meant a change on the horizon. There was more to come.

    Piper McLean started off as she always did, tried to keep the peace. After they met up with Percy, something stirred in her. She changed before Jason had, but hadn’t gone to him until that day, when Percy had seen her. He was keeping tabs on them through the water. Willing it to show him what he wanted to see and the water obeyed, slowly shifting alliance from the god who originally controlled it to his son.

    What changed her was that she had been targeted by human boys who thought it was okay to try and harass her. They catcalled her, they used lame lines. They wanted her for themselves.

    It didn’t go that far. Piper pushed past that people had to be receptive to the idea before using her charmspeak and she forced them to obey. She lowered their desires.

    It was the first time she felt power ripple through her. From then on, she started messing around with her powers.

    She drew in women and men alike and she started to alter her appearance to what appeased them, tricking them into thinking she was the perfect image of the lover they wanted. She heightened their desires and she ordered them around, radiating beauty, love and lust. Her eyes were still kaleidoscopic in nature and they would settle on one colour when she had her own target in sight. Her hair would lengthen, shorten, and change styles to what her victims were attracted to. Her skin would become paler or darken to their liking. Even her voice took on a different quality over time. She could see what they desired.

    When she lured them in, she struck and she took them down, killing them before they knew what had happened. Piper had also been a victim and no one else had been around to help her, so she turned and used her powers differently to get what she wanted.

    She forced people to do what she wanted with her charmspeak and she started to see connections between people. The attraction, the love. It would show by shimmering between them in a light pink colour and little imaginary doves would flitter around. She turned that love to hate and watched as people fought. Watched as she had the power to destroy friendships and relationships with a thought now.

    Piper walked around dressed in strips of fabric covering her most intimate areas and with feet bare of anything. The strips of fabric would shimmer and change to what her victims liked best; always in full attire. If the men tried to envision her with nothing, she took them down like a venomous snake with one strike. She always walked away covered in blood; her body painted in the splatter and adding more depth to the white fabric and turning pink overtime.

    She started to keep the hearts of her victims, collecting them in jars and labelling them with names and dates. So far, she’d collected over fifty of them before she had gone to see Jason.

    His blue eyes were colder and they danced with lightning, where it flashed in his irises. His body was just barely there anymore and he was like a walking mass of lightning; alternating between the body that Piper had come to know, or the lightning that wanted to walk the earth with a form.

    Where the romans had placed their mark upon him there was now dozens of bolts of lightning and clouds, as if he had seared it into his own flesh.

    Piper destroyed her camp necklace and left no trace of it behind anymore. Piper didn’t belong with them anymore, not after she embraced this new side of her.

    Piper made herself a new home, in a little cottage off the side of a deserted road and deep inside the forest. People were wary of her and never ventured into her territory willingly.

    Tristan didn’t realize his daughter had turned down a different path because soon after, his home had been raided and he had been killed in a home invasion. Sally and Paul tried to get their son to come back to them, and Percy closed himself off from them.

    Now when the weather was bad, Sally knew it had been her son and she mourned for the person he used to be - for the loss of her child. She cursed the gods, Poseidon even more so than the rest.

    She was a mortal who wanted revenge for what this world had turned her son into and was beginning to infect his friends.

* * *

For anyone who is interested, [here](http://amusewithinme.tumblr.com) is my Tumblr for any and all needs. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will most likely be updating this again with the third chapter. When, I am not sure, but I will also be fixing up We Meet Again, and somewhere in there, I will be adding to Our New Lives. Stick around! I hope you enjoyed.


	3. Eight and Nine (Hazel and Frank).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review and enjoy! I decided I would post this because I had it done. And I would like to thank everyone for reviewing, leaving kudos, and giving me a chance in general.

* * *

* * *

 

It all started for Hazel Levesque when she’d tried to help her brother. She wasn’t so sure she recognized the person sitting on a throne made of bone. But then again, didn’t she recognize him? The spirits pressed closer to her, goading her to do the same as he had. The aura of power radiating from him was unlike she’d ever felt for a demigod. If he could still classify as one by this point.

    It felt like she could hear Gaea in her head again, trying to get her to do things that she didn’t want to. Hazel’s soul had already been tainted by Gaea and then she had gotten rid of the threat herself, but she’d also played a hand in Gaea rising all those years go, even if Gaea had been delayed at first.

    Nico decided to take her to Piper, who gave her a hostile smile, but in the end had brought her along on “a hunt,” and showed Hazel what she was now capable of. In a strange way, Hazel had been in awe of what Piper had accomplished and how her powers alone had grown. How far she had come in a few short months.

    It made Hazel curious of how hers could grow. How far she would be able to take her own. After that, she was taken to Jason, and then she was taken to Percy last. They each had an air of madness and malice. When Hazel saw Percy, she could no longer believe it. She’d once thought that Percy had been Poseidon’s gentler side of his nature: the side that would sooner help people than destroy them. Hazel realized how horribly wrong she had been, at least now. It was true until he had turned and went down the path he was going in. Now he reveled in the destruction and the deaths he brought on; the bloodshed and fights that he went seeking for.

    Hazel didn’t start out like them. She didn’t start by killing people. She started by trying to enhance her powers first and let them grow that way. It seemed to begin to work, albeit it was a rather slow process. That was okay with Hazel.

    She started to get a control on her curse. She turned her curse into others’ curses. Purposefully leaving around precious metals and waiting for people to find them. She waited and watched as they perished.

    Hazel started to let the grounds cave beneath houses and watched as the people inside them screamed and begged for help. But they never saw her. They never knew who it was then.

    She started to get better and better at shadow-traveling like Nico could. She couldn’t use them to her advantages, at least not a great majority. After all, the gift she had been cursed with was riches.

    Then it was using the Mist, controlling what people saw. She would make the worst monsters seem like they were alive and terrorizing the general population. They would see monsters that chased them, with claws and teeth dripping with gore and limbs hanging from their frothy maws. Monsters that were animals swirled to combined; the ones that were from her world and then others that were pulled straight from their nightmares. Some had their worst dreams come to life, tormented by things that did not exist in their world.

    More precious metals and gems popped up around Hazel, calling to her, coaxing her to use them as she pleased. Necklaces choked some of her victims, bracelets and anklets held them down, sensitive piercings were ripped from their bodies and splattered those areas with blood.

    Each time a life was lost, a red jasper gemstone was left on the bodies.

    Hazel started to let her skin take on the properties of certain things. Her skin turned as hard as diamonds before she _became_ a walking diamond. No one could hurt her if she didn’t want it to happen.

    Pluto acknowledged her and tried to send her back down to the underworld. Using her newfound powers to escape had been as easy as breathing. Hazel became one with the earth eventually. Her body breaking down, lowering into the ground until she became the very soil she would stand upon.

    Precious metals and gemstones would be used as weapons, slamming into someone’s heart or head at high velocity. No one would survive. People started to become consumed by the earth, their own bodies breaking down and turning to dust if Hazel had commanded it so.

    Hazel made her home in an underground cave. Rubies, sapphires, diamonds, and all other gemstones were littered at her feet. Precious metals made up her own throne that she sat upon while she grinned coldly. The delicate crown she wore upon her head was made of stones and metals, woven together to create an intricate pattern.

    The legion mark on her forearm was no longer seen because of the jewels that were glittering and embedded in her skin. Put there by her own hand and kept there by her wish and command. Small ones and a few big ones, covering up the claim that had been put upon her. Metal wrapped around that forearm too, giving the illusion that the stones were being held in place by the wires.

    Her home guarded by dirt figures conjured up from a thought. Figures made of metal and stones that creaked and cracked with every movement and eyes that glowed with vengeance.

    Frank came to see her once, caged in by metal and in the form of a wild feline; a panther, this time. She could see it in his eyes that he had already followed in their footsteps. Eyes that were once gentle held a ferocity and feral quality to them that only a wild animal could keep.

    It was not lost on Hazel that the men seemed to turn quicker than the women did. Not that she minded. After all, she was getting a taste of it herself now.

  


**     **     **

  


Time and time again Frank Zhang had shifted into an animal and then reverted back to his human form. The more he did it, the more the feelings of each beast stayed with him. And, little by little, it began to affect him and they started to bleed through in his personality.

    One day, a monster had been attacking campers guarding the entrance and Frank went to help. He killed the monster, easily, but he had almost turned on the campers. In his fright and terror, he left.

    That had been his mistake.

    He left as an animal and stayed that way; instincts driving him to do things he did not think he should be doing. Frank had come across various apex predators, all of which he took down effortlessly.

    Then a hunter wandered into the woods, hours after Frank had arrived and had already taken down animals, leaving blood, gore and carcass in his wake.

    A hunter, gun in hand, was met with a bear bigger than he had ever encountered. Intelligent. Faster. The last thing he saw was Frank’s bloodied maw as it tore open his face.

    Each animal that Frank shifted into was meaner, more aggressive and easily agitated, and a formidable opponent to anyone who dared cross him. Eyes that glowed red, as if Mars himself felt pride for his son and the havoc he was causing.

    Animals in the woods came when they heard his call; rounding them up for a kill he wanted to share: a group of hunters when they were in his territory.

    Rage. Jealousy. Resentment. Bitterness. Envy. All these negative emotions Frank had started to amp up in the people he came across once he ventured out from the forested area, human or beast.

    Skeletons that lost a war were now his to command with more ease and effortlessly. Soldiers that had prayed to Ares or Mars and lost, now forever his to control. Frank couldn't do it as well as Nico could, but well enough. Spirits didn't tremble before him as they did in the presence of the Ghost King.

    Frank went to see Hazel, sniffing her out, and seeing her lounging on a throne as if she had been born to do so. Guards made of the earth and its materials waiting for her command once they caged him.

    Hazel sang, “One by one we join Percy’s ranks,” and the cave quivered, feeding off its mistresses excitement. “One by one we make our own path.”

    That voice that was no longer as soft and warm as it had been, but was now cold and cruel. It was that very voice that brought him comfort he had not known he needed. Golden eyes that burned too bright, now with hate and bitterness.

    Spending time with her before going off to make and find his own home, just as his friends had. Frank lived deep in the forest, as a beast for a majority of the time, and his home was made clear when one got too close by the heads on pikes, some old, almost bleached ivory and some so fresh the blood still dripped from their severed heads.

    Frank tore up his Praetor’s cloak and burned it. And then, with a mouthful of razor sharp teeth and the need to reclaim himself, bit savagely into his own forearm. To rid his flesh and the mark of the legion that had been seared into him.

    Frank would no longer hear the voice of Mars or Ares in his head again.

    When it healed, it would be an ugly scarred mess. A reminder of what had been and a declaration of his freedom and separation.

    Lying around on various animal pelts, blood staining the ground and his teeth and flesh, Frank waited with a hostile grin for the others to follow.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be updating this again on Thursday night/early Friday morning. I hope you enjoyed!


	4. Five and Seven (Leo and Reyna).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I ranked Reyna as number seven because, if I remember correctly, Jason remembers her name by the end of The Lost Hero or somewhere else in the book. But, review and enjoy! Tuesday night, late Tuesday night, the final chapter for No More will be uploaded. As long as I have pre-written chapters, updates will be late Tuesdays and Thursdays.

* * *

 

Leo Valdez crashed to the ground after being blasted out of the sky, Festus curled around him protectively before going up in flames and sparks, mechanical whirring filling the air before fading away into nothingness, the light of his eyes slowly winking out. A giant crater had been blasted into Festus’s backside somewhere and traveled along him and Leo had been bucked from him. When Festus dove to the ground, he wrapped Leo up in his embrace and hurtled to the ground, back first.

    Didn’t Leo belong anywhere? Calypso had rejected him when he’d gone back to the island to get her and he didn’t know why. He’d already felt abandoned and his other friends were probably better off without him. They were all paired up and where did that leave him? He was still nothing but an awkward seventh wheel among them.

    And now, his dragon had been taken from him. The one thing he still had. His circuiting had been fried and bits of him blown apart. Leo had rebuilt him once, but it would no longer be the same. There would be all different parts. A different dragon who hadn’t been with him through everything from the very beginning. 

    Leo forgot it was him who had caused his mother’s death in that moment and flames rose up around him, swirling and flaring up. The flames from Festus joined the flames he was creating, leaping off his skin and lapping at his skin harmlessly. His clothes intact if he concentrated.

    He started to wander around slowly, not knowing where he should be heading. His tool belt around his waist, untouched in his current state of mind. He didn’t care where he ended up. 

    At some point, he found himself at a beach, walking along the shore and staring at the water. People spotted him and dashed in the other direction, screaming. They saw something through the Mist, but Leo wasn’t sure he wanted to know what. He couldn’t bring himself to care, he just kept staring at the water.

    Pausing, he crouched down and ran his fingertips along the water’s surface. It absently reminded him that the water was eerily calm when Percy wasn’t around. It responded to someone who’d always be expressive and wouldn’t back down, no matter how pointless something seemed. How outnumbered he might be. They all worked well together when they needed to, hadn’t they? Even if it was in groups. 

    A shift of the wind, the air smelled of danger, but it strangely didn’t want to send him running. It wanted to welcome him. On the barest traces of a wind, Leo could have sworn he heard Jason’s voice call out, “Your turn. You’re already part of the way there with us.” 

_ Us? What are you talking about _ ? some part of Leo idly wondered. He didn’t know what was going on. Didn’t know what to think or to feel. 

    He might’ve gone a little crazy, because he swore the voice answered him, “You’re about to see.” 

    All of the sudden, a storm that had been brewing above him unleashed a wall of rain. Leo’s fire went out in an instant in the overwhelming downpour of rain. It took a second for Leo to decipher what it was he was feeling and, most of all, seeing. 

    Waves crashed against the shore now and in the rain, Leo was sure he felt Percy’s presence and then, Jason’s. He’d felt this type of thing, but at the same time, he hadn’t. 

    It was dangerous. It was the type of weather that could kill a person. That  _ would _ kill a person. 

    Within the rain, Leo began to see figures and scenes and he could’ve sworn they were real. Either that, or he really was going insane. Deep in his gut somewhere he could feel power well up inside him. Fire roared high and glowed bright, ranging from orange, yellow, and then blue at the tips.

    If the two of them could have that sort of power, why couldn’t he? If everyone else was, why didn’t he? In the little visions made out of the element, Leo saw Frank, Hazel, Nico and Piper all doing the same thing.

    With the storm dissipated as easily as it had started, Leo made his decision. Flames coiled around his neck, intentionally burning into his skin now and burning his camp necklace to ashes. Instead, around his neck, coiled around the entirety, was the shape of a certain mechanical dragon.

    Leo made his way to his friends, not entirely certain about it, but enough to know he needed to head their way. Every so often in the ground he would feel not Gaea’s presence, but Hazel’s. In the woods, he would sense Frank and in the shadows it was Nico. When he came across a young couple or some relatives fighting, Piper had had her hand in it. In the air was Jason and Percy, no matter where he went.

    Leo walked in flames and the ashes of the people he killed along the way. Homes burned to the ground and nothing was spared. His victims had only patches of clean, smooth skin when the soot was cleared away: a mechanical dragon around their throats. 

    He came across an orphaned child and it had all been his fault for this. He picked up the infant, lifting it to his face, staring into those innocent green eyes. A voice that had been in disuse since Calpyso’s island rang out, cold and harsh now, “You’ll see when you get older that there’s evil in the world that can’t be helped. That sometimes . . . People make killers by trying to turn them into heroes. We’re no longer anyone’s hero.”

    The child was left on someone’s doorstep, taken there by a tendril of fire that was unharming the demigod infant. The child would grow up, hearing those words in their subconscious for years to come. 

    When Leo finally reached his friends, he met them all in front of a house that was splattered with blood, as was most of the people who stood in front of it. Even the giant eagle had feathers that were starting to become permanently red in varying shades. A mockery to the king of the Olympians.

    All of them had eyes full of hate, vengeance, bitterness. Eyes full of death and barely leashed rage and aggression. Percy’s hair was shaved into an undercut, the rest of his hair falling in his face. There was a tattoo that looked like an owl on the right side of his neck. Nico looked pretty much the same just with longer hair, curling in its confinement of a ponytail, and skeletal hands reaching out from shadows around and beneath him. Piper in something daring and he could almost envision Calpyso in her place. The ground quivered around Hazel and her forearm glittered. Jason’s hair was longer and unruly, and a storm spirit, Tempest, stood behind him.

    It was Piper who welcomed him, a malicious grin tilting her lips up. “Welcome home, Leo.” 

    Overtime, Leo started to be able to control machines with a thought. Turning them on the owners of the houses they resided in. Machines that came to find him when their tasks were done. 

    Wherever he went, blistering waves of heat signaled his arrival and an army of little trinkets and machines with the bigger, more vicious ones behind him and still he walked encased in fire. Like Percy, Jason and Nico, Leo would be able to use his element to travel from place to place wherever it was present. 

    Leo’s eyes even seemed like dancing flames all on their own, dancing within his brown irises. His home was in an abandoned factory, full of gadgets, trinkets, and parts he could use to build anything he wanted. A throne made of parts of Festus that he had retrieved through his flames; Festus’s disfigured head at the top and looming over Leo’s head with one glowing eye twinkling in and out of existence. 

  
  
  
**     **     **   
  
  


 

Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano had had enough. If no one else was willing to try and eliminate the threat then that left it up to her at this point. She would get the job done. If she didn’t, who else would be able to? They may have been her friends, but the havoc and damage they were causing had gotten out of control. New York was slowly beginning to look something like a wasteland; no one wanted to stay where chaos had been born anew. 

    She met them all in front of a house that Percy had claimed as his own. They were all waiting for her and her two automaton canines. She already had a sword drawn, relaxed and ready to battle. The auras that were rolling around her in waves was enough to send millions of little shivers up her spine and cause her flesh to break out in goosebumps.

    The people in front of Reyna were no longer the people she called her friends. They were twisted, darker versions of the people they used to be. They had helped save the world and now it seemed like they were trying to destroy it.

    Before she could even attack, one automaton canine was shoved into the ground by an invisible force and the other one was slowly coming undone; wires and parts floating around before dropping to the ground. The one that had been pushed into the ground then whirled on her, teeth gnashing as it growled at her. She tried, and failed, to give voice to a command. 

    “This is one battle you won’t win.” Leo’s voice rang out, hand moving in lazy shapes and the canine was mimicking those actions.

    “We’re sorry, Reyna. At least I am. But I’m tired of everything we’ve been put through and everything we’re going to keep having to face. And for what?” Nico said, skeletal hands reaching for her. Reyna stumbled back.

    “No-o-o-thing,” Percy sang. “I’d been offered godhood for everything I did in saving the world one time and I turned it down in hopes that the gods would change their ways and be better leaders. And did they?”

     “I want to go with no. Just look at all the trouble they gave us before they second war,” Piper spoke up. Just her voice was enough to have Reyna swaying towards their logic. Her voice was mesmerizing, trying to lure her in. Reyna was desperately trying to ignore the fact she was mostly naked and that her form was wavering, trying to take on the appearance of another. All of their powers had grown in a few short months.

    Then it was time for her terror to register.

    Percy started to come towards her and Reyna felt her blood run cold. Where was all her courage?

    Frank started to come towards her in the form of a mountain lion with fur splattered with blood and Leo had flames erupting all around him and the rest of his atramentous friends. The ground around Hazel shivered and it split open in front of Hazel, a jagged line heading towards Reyna. 

    In her terror, she nearly fumbled with her sword. Not even the gods had this aura of power. Not unless they were angry and it showed. 

    Reyna’s power started to work in reverse. Instead of her allowing to share her courage, her confidence, her power and energy, she could feel it happening like a vacuum. She was pulling these emotions from  _ them _ . It was them giving her the energy and strength to stand there and face off against them. No matter what, she knew she wouldn't win. 

    Each of them had thrown away most or all of their humanity and now it hardly mattered who was hurt, who died or who lived. 

    They all looked impressed to see she was still standing there. Trembling, but still standing her ground. 

    It was all she had been taught. To fight. To survive. She learned it from an early age when Percy was the one who destroyed her and her sister’s home.

    She felt confidence swell within her, but she didn’t think it would be enough. Not in the face of these new monsters that would haunt the dreams of hundreds.

     Reyna could also feel power that built up inside her and she knew part of that was due to whatever she was siphoning from them rather than giving it to them. Reyna swung her sword at Percy’s midsection, but he didn’t move. Instead, her sword passed through him cleanly and Reyna understood why after she was knocked on her ass.

    Percy’s powers had grown to the point where he could make himself water, which is what he did right then. His entire body had become liquid, swirling and shifting. It changed colours from green to blue to a deep red. Nico became a living shadow without eyes, but she knew he could see just fine judging by the fact that he was following her every move with claws that reached out. Jason became his own element just the same; lightning sparking out in different directions and eventually, Leo followed suit except he kept flickering between his human form and his elemental form. He wasn't as used to it as the others were, but it didn't stop him from trying something new in the face of power. 

    Reyna realized that this was not, in fact, a battle she would win.

    In fact, she would sooner die before she even remotely came close to winning.

    She was ashamed to admit that she scrambled up and she ran. She didn’t have a destination in mind. She just wanted to live and if she stayed that wouldn’t be happening. Those people had no qualms when it came to killing others and it was evident by the looks they’d been giving her. Piper had kept looking at her chest and it was with a sickening feeling that Reyna realized Piper was envisioning something unsavory.

    In front of her, the shadows shifted and grew longer. They seemed to whisper to her: “You could join us.” 

    And Reyna didn’t make it back to Camp Jupiter. She wanted to get rid of the threat she had originally came to eliminate and it wouldn’t happen if she didn’t make herself stronger somehow.

    Without realizing it, Reyna would soon become just like Hazel.

    Reyna went around and she tried to do as she had done when she faced off against them. She went up against people and she started sucking the confidence and the courage out of them. She took it for herself and she stored it deep within her to use as a weapon at a later date if need be.

    It started to come to the point where Reyna would eventually be able to suck any emotion out of her unsuspecting victims and keep it for herself or discard them. Once she got ahold of it, no one would be able to get any feedback out of her anymore. They would no longer know she felt no remorse after countless victims or the madness she was slipping into. Little by little, Reyna, the only Praetor left, began to become consumed with power and madness as those before her.

    Weapons were one of Reyna’s specialties and she used it against those who came after her with them. Weapons that would quiver in her presence and begin to rise from where they were placed on shelves and stools and in cases. They floated towards her or turned on her victims and Reyna used a gun once for the first time. The second she touched it, she knew everything about it: when it was made; last shot; previous owners. Swords, knives, arrows and bows; they were all under her command. She knew what they were made of, too, with a simple touch. 

    One day she became so fixated upon a blade that her arms began to shine silver, hardening and shifting to become one with the blade. The hilt disappeared and became her hand, melding to it.

    Reyna went back to that house and instead of trying to slaughter each and every one of them, she found herself standing there, a bit lost. Percy was there with Piper, idly chatting as they’d just finished someone off and Piper was in the middle of carving out the young woman’s heart, a jar beside them labeled with tape and a marker. 

    Percy sensed her first and he looked over from his crouching position, doused in blood from a fountain of it that rained down from a severed arm and leg. He gave a crooked, maniacal grin, green eyes alight with satisfaction.

    It was when he looked up that she said, “I want to join you guys.”

    Percy laughed, loud and bright, the way it used to be. That was before she realized it was still virulent and it only seemed to be the way it used to sound like because she had decided to join him. It was a sound of comfort to her.

    Reyna would eventually make her way out again after embracing the two she decided were her friends again to find her own home.

    And she did. It was in an abandoned warehouse full of weapons. Her canines had been returned to her by Hazel and Leo, both in top condition and they swore to never use them against her again. The automatons didn’t go after them, so Reyna assumed they were telling the truth.

    Her Praetor’s cloak began to lose its blessing the moment she began allowing her powers to expand and then altogether when she took her first victim. She tore it up and hung it outside of the warehouse. Like Percy, she covered up her legion mark with an ace bandage.

    People quaked and trembled when she walked by and she kept her armor on, hair flowing loose around her now. People saw her and ran in the other direction or screamed and trembled, hoping she wouldn’t notice them with her abundance of weaponry that floated around her, awaiting their mistress’s command. 

    Her eyes lost their warmth and her smile became just as malignant as everyone else’s. 

    Reyna welcomed the madness that was still consuming her.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take a moment to express my regret over the incident at the nightclub called Pulse. I do not live very far from there, and should any of my readers know someone from this tragedy, as part of the LGBT community and a human being in general, I am apologetic and my heart goes out to you tenfold. To anyone who has experienced hate.   
> I am appalled and enraged at such a tragedy but despite this, you should not be afraid to be who you are and love who you want.


	5. Two and A Surprise Guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the conclusion to the darker aspects. I hope it does not disappoint and I hope you enjoy it.  
> My brother solidified my including the tenth person. I thought about it, briefly before, and then agreed that my brother had a point with including her. So viola!

* * *

 

They had all turned within the span of six months and it left Annabeth Chase all alone. She didn’t know what to do and she wasn’t sure what her next steps were. She spent those months camped out mostly in Percy’s cabin and wearing his t-shirts. They smelled like him and so did his cabin. She wept to herself most nights when she couldn’t sleep.

    She wanted them all back and the way they used to be. Annabeth wanted time to turn back; to where she didn’t know monsters existed or to where her and Percy hadn’t gone through as much as they had. Her and her friends had done too much in this world for the others to be doing this. It wasn’t what they should have been doing. Luke had made that mistake and they’d been trying to fix it by attempting to fix the gods and their ways.

    Annabeth stopped going to Sally and Paul’s after it became apparent that both of them were now bitter and resentful for the world she and Percy had been born into. It hadn’t been Annabeth’s fault - she was alive as a token of favoritism to her father. It wasn’t Percy’s fault, either.

    When Annabeth didn’t want to be parted from them anymore, after thinking on it for so long, she made up her decision and it was set in stone.

    The weather that day was calm and cool. It was deceptively beautiful and it was almost as if the earth’s elements were holding their breaths, waiting for the right time to unleash itself if things didn’t go according to plan.

    It was easy to find them. For one, all you had to do was go in the direction that energy rippled strongest from. The auras that pulsed around and would have been a thick fog if not for the fact that they seemed so familiar despite how the people behind it had went down different paths than they originally set out for.

    They all looked so different than the last time she’d seen them and it made someplace deep in her chest ache and flutter at the same time. A hand clutched at her heart to know she hadn’t been there to see them all progress. Now she was overjoyed to see them again and it didn’t matter in what way or how. They were all standing in front of a house on the outskirts of a smaller town. Smaller than what the busy streets of Manhattan were like.

    Percy was standing there, smiling at her with a bit of warmth that his smile used to hold for her and she felt the first sting of tears prickle at her eyes. He was even more handsome than the last time she’d seen him and it made her heart pound in her chest. She wondered what he thought of her in that moment; if she was still acceptable to him.

    Those fears abated when he stepped forward and he extended his right hand to her. He spoke in a chilled voice that beckoned and welcomed her forth, “Join us, Annabeth.”

    Annabeth nodded her head as she took his hand and she was brought close to his chest for a sweet, simple kiss. She soon clutched at his chest and she didn’t ever want to be parted from them all again. He had a contagiously virulent air about him that had infected the rest quicker than she. Annabeth hadn’t wanted to believe it, what they were doing, and eventually lost to the sway of her emotions.

    Her invisibility hat lost all its magic, again, and this time it had been from her decision. Athena seemed to have been monitoring her and that was all well and good. Athena had helped her on a few occasions, but in her mind, Percy and the rest of them seemed to have been there for her more on countless occasions.

    Annabeth had her camp necklace stored away with Percy’s, but she kept the red coral pendant Percy had given her when they first started dating. Hazel had taken it for a day and returned it.

    She had used silver to make a delicate, yet intricate crown with the pendant in the center, fine threads interspersed to keep it in place. It was similar to the one Hazel wore, just without the assorted jewels and metals.

   Annabeth didn't have any special powers that she needed to hone and that she wished would grow. It wasn't the first time Annabeth felt out of place amongst her peers; where they all got something cool and Annabeth was left behind.

    But Percy didn't make her feel as if she wasn't special. He showered her with attention and love and went as far as to call her his queen. Told her that one day she would have her own throne and it would be right next to his.

   Annabeth went with Percy one day on a job. She decided to give it a shot: what him and the others do. She hadn't lost herself to the madness the others had yet, but she slowly tortured someone; she cut them where they wouldn't bleed out too soon. Cracked and broke bones at certain areas to where it caused pain and tried to make sure it didn't cause too much internal bleeding if she wasn't ready for them to die.

    Other times she would dismember them slowly, not minding whether they bled out or not. She found out that the screams weren't all that bad to listen to. She made sure to find secluded areas to where she wouldn't be bothered. Annabeth also found out that Percy liked to watch her and would usually accompany her just to see what she did.

    Annabeth eventually had an idea.

    She helped the others start to make temples of sorts for themselves. If they wanted to take over and unseat the gods, perhaps it was better to weaken them first. If mortals decided to start worshipping them instead, they could show mortals that they could be better.

    Percy’s temple was near a river; Hazel had hers near a cave; Jason had his on the incline of a cliff; Frank had his deep in the woods close to where he lived; Piper’s near Jason’s; Nico’s was in a particularly shadowy area under a tree in a park; Reyna’s was on the opposite side of the tree where Nico had his; Leo’s was where a house had burned down that hadn't been his doing.

    And Annabeth? Percy insisted that she have hers near his. His contained an archway made of seastone with shells embedded in it. Hers was smaller compared to his, but made of the same materials. One could leave letters under rocks or shells or leave offerings in bowls that had been placed under the archway. Each one was like that, but made a little differently. His had an image of Riptide laying horizontally on the top made of seastone, as if he enjoyed the blade, but had still cut his ties with that part of himself. Hers was in the shape of the dagger Luke had given her that she had lost; the tips of both blades facing each other.

    Hazel had hers made with jewels and metals, with jewels littered around the area. They were free to take, but only if one left a wish or thought and they no longer brought harm to the people who had possession of them. It had been intricately woven like her crown.

    Nico and Frank both had temples made of bone; though Nico’s was from mortals and Frank’s had been made of animals’. The former had his in the shape of a skull atop a handle, like they all were. Frank’s didn't have any particular shape aside from the arch.

    Piper had a temple that consisted of glass and jars, beautifully crafted and ensuring it would stay up, so all weather avoided that area. Hers in the shape of a dove with the head at the top, wings up upon a handle and outstretched, naturally. Jason embellished his own by using clear tubing with raised arms on the arch; air and water swirled around inside it.

    Reyna had hers consisted of various weapons and at the top of hers was a vertical pole with two crossed swords in the center.

    Leo’s was made of various machine parts in the shape of a dragon with an arched spine. Two legs on one side and two on the other. One third of the way up on one side was a dragon’s head that occasionally spewed fire.

    With all of them together and no one having to worry about constant monster attacks, Annabeth figured it had been one of the best things to happen. She didn't look back at her mortal family after saying goodbye to them. There was no reason to pull them down into madness.

  


**     **     **

  


Three years. Three years it took after the first nine turned before Lady Artemis decided to disband the huntresses under her care. She was afraid that one would come after her and her huntresses would pay the price. Artemis wanted to spare their lives if she could, if only to delay their deaths.

    It took one week after that for Thalia Grace, quicker than the rest in terms of how fast they fell, to be consumed with power.

    It was true that Thalia had always had a thing for power, but joining the hunt was the reason for that. Thalia didn't want to be tempted by the power she could wield.

    She remembered that maybe Zeus did love her, on some scale, and he had saved her first by turning her into a tree. She’d been able to protect hundreds of lives that way until she had been brought back.

    No longer under the restraints of Artemis, Thalia wanted to see what her full potential could be.

    When news reached her of her ex-sisters-in-arms being hunted themselves, after still praying loyalty to a goddess who abandoned them, Thalia lied in wait, but not before going after what she desired most.

    It started off small at first. Lightning crackled and rained down in clear skies, arching off of her and sparking, making tiny flames here and there before fizzling out swiftly. And if she caused a fire by lightning in clear skies, Thalia didn't care too much.

    It was when she came across young maidens, who’d either had people take advantage of them, or had interest in staying maidens rather than be with men, that she decided they were the ones she would spare. She turned to the hunt to also get away from the temptation and company of men. Thalia decided she wouldn't turn her back on them if they came to her seeking sanctuary, not like Artemis had done some time ago.

    Thalia taught young women, old enough to defend themselves and comprehend the severity of taking lives if need be, how to protect themselves from predators; how to read them so they weren't unsuspecting victims; how to use hunting knives and bows and arrows.

    These maidens didn’t become immortal, but they did wind up with an unearthly electric blue aura with hints of gold and silver in it. They hunted all hours of the day and night and bore the protection of their patron.

    They'd taken a liking to how she dressed: in punk clothing with smudged eyeliner on the waterline. But most kept their locks long and their figures still showing in the clothing they chose. They lured in their prey and took them down.

    One day, Thalia had been alone, the others off doing as they pleased, and Thalia had felt something in the air. It was malignant and full of bitterness. Thalia found herself walking towards it, instinctively searching out the source. There was something else there: the presence of an animal lying in wait. It gave off feigned terror, as if from an honest to gods cornered animal.

    It was there, in the middle of a park, a puppy surrounded by a group of people who were deciding who should have fun with it next. One of them pulled out a switchblade and approached the defenseless animal. Thalia thought she should jump in, and was about to, until she saw the spark of intelligence and rage that flickered through brown, deadened eyes.

    After that, everything happened at once.

    Said puppy lunged sideways, towards a man off to Thalia’s right and shifted into a hellhound and tore into the man with ease, first taking off his head and then working on other limbs. Eventually it was just a torso in a large maw while being swung viciously back and forth.

    Two other men exploded in a shower of blood and gore, dropping to the ground with wet plops. The switchblade turned on the first and final man before the blade was plunged into his heart by an unseen force.

    The hellhound started to stalk towards her and Thalia instinctively lifted her spear. She could feel it begin to vibrate dangerously in her grasp.

    “Enough,” called a deep voice behind her.

    In an instant, the hellhound paused and the spear in her hand stopped its weird vibrations. The hellhound reverted back to a human form and a woman stepped out from behind a tree where no one had seen her.

    Turning to look, Thalia was stunned to see it was Percy. He looked so different, but it warmed her heart to see he was alive and well.

    “Thalia, this is Reyna and Frank. They didn’t hurt you, did they?” He approached her slowly, an air of confidence and power oozing from him.

    Thalia shook her head no and put away her spear. “They didn’t. I just came this way to investigate. I was about to jump in, but it appears they didn’t need help.”

    Percy gave a crooked smile. “You’re right about that. They don’t need anyone’s help. Not anymore.”

    Percy informed her about what he was doing, telling her about the others who had turned. He offered to take Thalia to them, allowing her to see. She’d even get to see Jason. She was even more astounded to find out it had been Percy who’d been hunting down the huntresses, because they kept coming after him and his family. Percy said that no one would hurt his family anymore. He had the power to put a stop to it and he’d use it; no longer afraid or uncertain. He no longer held his powers in check against anyone he came across.

    Thalia told him about what she was doing in turn. She’d always thought about siding with the ones who were most likely to win and when she found out it was Percy who’d started this whole thing, Thalia was even more interested. She wouldn’t need to wait to gain trust; they trusted each other already. They had a friendship put into place and had gone on a few quests. They’d battled side by side.

    Percy gave her this look that said he’d thought she’d eventually join him, knowing how she was.

    Thalia learned how to travel through lightning and make herself a walking embodiment of such an element; her brother teaching her effortlessly. Sparks flew off of her and she needed only think about what she wanted, an abstract thought, and it was to be. People started to think of Thalia and Jason as twins whenever they were out and walking around wrapped up in their elements: she in flashing lights of ivory and hints of blues and silvers and Jason in hues of blues and golds. Looking nothing alike and still seen as twins.

    Wherever she walked, most people dropped to the ground, dead. Electricity running up their torsos and frying their insides. Lips blue and faces pale from the air she’d taken and never gave back. Waves of power rippling off of her, stronger than the rest of her comrades. Her new family that was allowing her to grow rather than trying to talk her down. They wanted Thalia to grow with them.

    It was what she’d always wanted. And what she’d finally gotten.

    Thalia made her home in a mountain, not too high up, but also not too low, either. Her home surrounded with her maidens as she lounged on a throne made of lightning. Thalia didn’t begin to deny the men who came to her wanting power, but it was only given to them if they were deemed worthy after they went up against her maidens. Her huntresses. On her head was a crown made of lightning that flickered in and out of existence.

    Some people had the last image play in front of them being a giant bird made of lightning before they were killed.

    Annabeth helped her make her own temple and it was not too far from where she lived: it was down at the base of the mountain and made of things that symbolized power from the people she had killed: little trinkets, pendants, weapons, lucky clothing, even. Anything that they saw as lucky, giving them strength in the face of a powerful opponent. She took it all as spoils of her own wars. At the top of her arched temple was an eagle made of lightning that never dimmed or flickered out; burning brightly for all to see.

    Thalia was the last of Percy’s friends to join him. The others either died out or they were neutral parties and were left alone.

    She was the last to leave behind most of her humanity.

  
  
  


**     **     **

  
  
  


In a decade the gods had flickered out and faded in favour of the new gods and goddesses that had been on the rise. The ones that took action without idly standing by.

    It had taken roughly five years before the gods had weakened enough for the ten to take them on and, ultimately, win. They had, after all, been in power for millennia. It hadn't been all at once, the annihilation that had taken place, it was a rather gradual process with strategic planning to ensure it was a side won.

    Percy Jackson became the new king of Olympus and the new Sea God in combination to being the god of justice; giving it to those who had been wronged and the original system had failed them.

    Nico do Angelo became the god of death, fears and punishment. Those who came before him and had a past that had been hidden had light shone upon it and they were punished accordingly.

    Jason became the god of lightning and of the protector of mankind. Though it was mostly towards children. He still watched over young demigods and taught them necessary survival skills when they were old enough and protected the ones too young to learn.

    Piper was goddess of love, beauty, marriage, and of all whom didn't fit into societal norms. She was the patron goddess for those who labeled themselves as transsexual, nonbinary, pansexual, demisexual, homosexual and all the others. Those who wronged these people, killed innocent people because of who they were, had their families torn apart and in the end, their hearts added to her collection.

    Hazel Levesque was the goddess of riches and madness. Those who worshipped her were just as mad as she with a small to no amount of their own sanity left.

    Frank Zhang went on to become the god of the hunt and all wild animals, even though he enjoyed killing them from time to time. In a twisted sense of humour, those who hunted mortals for sport became hunted themselves and had the tables turned on them.

    Leo decided to be the god of both life and coexisting as a death god with Nico, as the flames that swirled brought new life, yet destroyed all else to bring it. He also became the new blacksmith.

    Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano was the goddess of war, weapons, and all positive emotions that make one strong. She still gave those an extra dose of strength if they needed it, but she also took away from those who didn't deserve it.

    Annabeth Chase finally became a goddess herself and it was for wisdom, logic, home, and fertility.

    Thalia Grace was the last to become a goddess and she was the one who watched over maidens. She was the holder and giver of power, taking it away and giving it as she pleased. She wasn’t afraid to take back the power she’d given to someone. She bestowed any power to someone that she saw fit. She gave Annabeth small doses of each of their powers and she was no longer alone in that aspect.

    Eventually, they spawned their own children, gods and demigods, who would fit into the world they had created.

    Somewhere off into the distance, Rachel Elizabeth Dare and Chiron mourned the losses of both friends and family.

    Rachel could still see how things would end up and she became the new goddess of prophecy and fate, siding along with the others after delivering a new prophecy. She didn’t think it was a particularly bad change; after all, she could see it.

    Chiron wept when it first began to happen, losing children he had had a hand in raising over the years, long or short.

    It was perhaps a slightly crueler world, the one the new gods and goddesses were shaping. It was one that was also working the most.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next I will likely be posting the first chapter to the rewrite of We Meet Again, providing I can finally finish it. I should be able to, and that will be done on Thursday night.


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